Broken Covenant
by A Poisoned Aishiteru
Summary: AU. Roy is a scouting agent under a devil of a man, with little recollection of how he started working there twelve years ago. But pieces arise when he saves an angelic young man who may hold all the answers in his own suppressed memory. Roy/Ed
1. Chapter One

Hey guys, long time no see! How have you all been? Me? I've been pretty peachy myself thanks.

So I've had this idea for about six-seven months now, but it's just been rotting area in my Word as I've been mainly working on role playing and my own OC's for the past several months. I finally got to this story about a week ago, and this is what happened. Yay? Well, hope you enjoy!

**EDIT: This is the first part of Chapter One! I have divided the chapter into two seperate parts, so if you read this and then go read the second 'chapter', yes that means you have already read it if you are clicked on this story prior to 5/10/10! Well, enjoy my seperated chapters (:**

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Playlist

**Chapter Song:** See Who I Am by Within Temptation

_"We've been dreaming_  
_But who can deny,_  
_It's the best way of living_  
_Between the truth and the lies"_

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**Warning: **High content of religious articles, people, and beliefs mentioned. The entire fic consists of heaven, hell, angels, demons, and everything in between. I mean for no one to take offense, and if you do, then please stop reading now. I don't want to see people having butt ache after this point, since I just warned everyone.

The other warning is high dosage of OC's used. I had to make up many characters to fit the story. I'm not staying that a bunch of the actual fandom's characters won't be included, because they will later on, but I felt more comfortable when I made the angels and demons as my own interpretations and my own characters. Just a warning for I know many people don't like massive amounts of originals. Some aren't necessarily OC's either; you'll see when you read. So this fandom doesn't belong to me, but the OC's do. Get it?

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**Notes: **No beta. I've been the only one to ever read through this, so if the story needs more clarification or you yourself does, feel free to post a review or PM me. State if the story needs more explanation or if you do yourself, and if I know that it won't necessarily be explained later on, then I'll help make it easier for you to understand. But I think a lot of it will become clearer in chapters to come, so don't worry about it!

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_It is better to re-enter hell and become an angel, than to remain in heaven and become a demon. –Victor Hugo_

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**Watcher's Circle, Central, 2010**

He started forward, like a dream, graciously moving one foot in front of the other until he reached the chair set aside for him. Other hooded figures, nothing against the dark walls that took their appearance, gathered around him in a circle, a murmuring buzz lingering in the air.

He had dropped his hood at the entrance, the long mane of auburn hair flowing down to his mid-back. He never liked to put it up, unless it unfortunately called for it. Like battle, and even then it was a vanity and pain to scoop it back.

As he sat, the other figures made no move to remove their hoods, as the newer man watched them all with hard, gray eyes.

"You are late." His greeting.

"An archangel is never late. Our time is just much more valuable and relaxed than others." He retorted back to the one who had spoke, leaning back in the rusted metal seat. The hooded ones just stared blankly his way, though he could hear harsh scoffing.

He could only see glimpses of their chins and an occasional slip of lips or closed mouth. Besides this, they kept hair hidden away under the hood. He could only detect who was male and female by the sluggish resolve of how their coat sat on them, since posture did nothing as did their quiet nonsense tones.

"Last I heard you were not the archangel Gabriel. You were nothing more than the other angel Gabriel, the one was created on a last ditch effort twelve years ago." A new voice spoke, the one who sat directly in front of Gabriel across the circle.

His words were spoken low and cool, though a brash undertone laid them down hard in his nonexistent heart. But it was true.

He was only created twelve years prior, when the war was on the edges of beginning. That war between the created and the damned…

But the war had been an utter and complete downfall, for not only did it leave the angels with only the sky to rule, it also gave way to a new entity being brought forth.

Confused?

This was why Gabriel was here, meeting with these outcasts, these _fallen_. As the war began, and bloodshed sentenced the earth, one very important detail had been overlooked by the angels. An offspring of both a winged being and one who was born on earth.

And as a result of their carelessness, as the demons held back their attacks, the angels brought down a human male who was believed to be with the opposing side.

Death was imminent.

And what do the archangels do for this child? They speak with the Father, taking pity on the poor boy and have him reborn as an angel.

What. The. Hell.

That was all Gabriel had to say about that entire matter.

A mistake caused a human to be disregarded as such, and be taken to heaven. Of course, his memories did not remain intact.

He believed he was created in heaven, to become an angel and only that.

But as Gabriel had initially been alright with this deduction, still newly borne and only knowing to serve and fight, he quickly changed his mind as his knowledge changed.

Why would years of tradition from the beginning of time change for this child?

He already knew the answer.

The child's father was an old archangel, one who was exiled twelve years ago…

He believed to be working with the demons, and that was why his son was confused as a conspirer as well. And though he got his son killed in the process, the archangels and Father still took pity on the boy for his father's actions, and let him become one with all of them in heaven.

How does that sit right with anyone?

He scowled towards the other man, crossing his arm across his chest. "My, my, my. Samyaza (1), didn't the Father ever warn you that words hurt? You're breaking my heart."

He heard a grunt, one that sounded more like it twisted Samyaza's face into a smirk than anything else. "I don't recall being grafted with hearts. Are they an improvement that you received in your rebellion?"

He would know, wouldn't he, Gabriel summed up.

Samyaza had been around for a long time, longer than most actually. He used to be a great caretaker of heaven, a real hard worker who kept the throne of God safe and watched over everything along with the other Gabriel, the real one, and Michael.

But with a name meaning 'infamous rebellion', it was something only the most prideful could live up to.

That was his downfall along with his inability to bow down to man.

And that was the reason Gabriel chose Samyaza for his project, his plan to force out this unnatural being from heaven. This _human_.

Even though Samyaza now stood as a leader of a group of fallen, his Watchers (2), those who sat around him now, as he had vowed to never turn back to assist his brothers, even Gabriel knew he would crack down when he heard of this.

And it had worked.

With years of convincing and plotting, it had been into action at nightfall.

It explained the reason two chairs remained empty at their meeting, for they were carrying out the tasks of removing the child. Gabriel pledged his loyalty to the Watchers, in exchange for the help to have this carried out.

The Watchers once ruled heaven as a group of pure angels who couldn't resist the urge to fool with mortal women. One guess as to where Samyaza's inexplicable inability to bow down to men came from after having dominance over those he lusted for.

"If a heart is what I am feeling, as my mind soars to comprehend that the plan has finally been called to action, then yes, Sam, yes I do have one." Gabriel responded, kicking back in the rusted chair. Samyaza was visibly scowling at the name, as the hood ghosted up his ashen skin.

"Speaking of my plan, I expect it to have been carried out dutifully and quietly? I don't want the archangels to be suspicious."

"What, afraid that the big bad angels figure out you've fallen?" A biting comment from his left, where a female sat, staring at him defiantly. She wasn't an original Watcher, he knew, but she still was accepted into Samyaza's group because of her notion to throw her loyalty from those who created her and pledge it to the fallen archangel across from Gabriel.

The original Watchers consisted of Samyaza and four others. Six more had been pledged to the rebellion leader who couldn't bow to man or stop his pride from becoming him.

They were all fallen angels, but never demons. Angels that were created in heaven and fell from God's rule, banished to earth. Of course, it was never much of banishment anymore after the angels lost earth to the demons twelve years ago…

The Watchers were not mistaken for demons, they never could be. But they did help them when they could, and when they could not, well… Let's just say that's when the demons got a taste of the trickery they were known for.

And that was the main objective here.

They stole the child from heaven, feigning banishment on him. The plan was carried out, and when the archangels discovered that their charity case was missing, and then who else would be to blame but the demons?

No one who suspect the Watchers, the band that was supposed to be broken apart years ago. They hadn't made an appearance at the fiasco twelve years ago, so the archangels didn't believe they were still around.

Plus, after a fallen gets their wings clipped, they can never return to heaven. That is, unless an angel still pure of faith willed them to. Well, Gabriel didn't know about the 'pure' and 'faith' part, but nonetheless, it would still be a long shot if the angels tried to blame them.

But Gabriel believed in the existence, so when he was more knowledgeable and was taught about those who fell, he knew exactly who to seek out.

And that's what led him here, to sit among these nine angels while two of the original carried out the mission.

"No, I merely don't want sudden light shed on us. I could care less if I was discovered now that my loyalty is pledged." He bit back.

"Oh, is that your excuse you used whenever you betray someone and start anew? Did you say those very words to God, and thought now that that recycled nonsense would get you in well with us? I can't wait to see this mission utterly fail." The female urged back, her tone completely stricken with anger and girth.

She spoke with a more sincere hatred than Samyaza did.

"Lilith (3), I apologize that we could not perceive this boy as a child, meaning which your services are completely useless here, but would you kindly shut up as I express my loyalty?" He smirked at her, turning his head to block her out.

"I'll show you where you can take your loyalty, Gabe, and better yet, you may have pledged loyalty, but do not compare yourself to us. We are officially fallen. You" Lilith sneered, "are still ranked among _them._" She spat out the last word like it was vile, shaking her head to wipe the taste from her mouth.

"Lilith, that is quite enough." Samyaza warned, as she rolled her eyes and bit her tongue to keep quiet.

Samyaza hadn't blinked at all throughout the little spat, as he still stared forward.

Gabriel made a rough huffing sound as he settled back in, before crossing his legs in a very out-of-date manner. "So, mind telling me exactly how those two are carrying out the request?"

Samyaza sighed, whether it was for the way Gabriel had manned that question or the tire for having to repeat it yet again. "We sent Samael (4) and Lahash (5) out at dusk, after they had been told what to do and how to accomplish the matter at hand."

Gabriel waited, but nothing more came.

"That's it?"

Samyaza leaned back in the chair a bit, throwing on a haughty look. "Is there more you'd like to know?"

"Well, yeah," He stated, looking confused but also a bit angry at the leaps and bounds that it was taking to get this information. It's like Samyaza wanted him to get on his knees and begs for every word that he uttered. Well, one thing's for sure.

Samyaza could keep dreaming.

"What about what happens once they get there? And not alerting Gabriel or Michael or any of the other angels? How will they kidnap him and smuggle him down? Then let's not even talk about getting past the gates—"

"Enough." Samyaza finally gave in, with a heavy, burden-filled sigh.

Gabriel threw a toothy grin in his direction, glad he got his way.

"Myself and Lilith went over the last proceedings with the two, before they left. They will enter through the opening you showed us back some time, where they will then ascend. I gave them dire warning of being caught." Most of the Watchers nodded at that statement, knowing even if they were caught by any heaven angels, the wrath of Samyaza would be a hundred times worse.

"After they get inside heaven, they will seek the boy out and speak to him about his banishment. If he asks any questions, they will handle it accordingly. If he resists, and I'm quite sure that he will not leave peacefully, they will use force." He paused. "Then they will do everything that is required of a fallen angel, including snipping off his wings."

The whole group flinched at the thought, for even though it was something they all had to go through, thinking about it was indefinitely worse. They had no pity for this boy, but even the cruelest of hearts can wince at the pain of their wings getting cut.

"Afterwards, they will descend and drop him into the alley around the block from where you specified. Is that all now, Gabriel?"

Gabriel rubbed his chin, going over the information in his head. "Wait a second." He started. "How do Samael and Lahash know what the boy looks like?" He snapped his fingers, and then pointed at Samyaza to show that he missed that little tidbit, trying to prove that there had been a little flaw in his part of the deal. He gave a little victorious chuckle under his breath, folding his arms back up as he stared back across at his 'leader'.

Psh, couldn't even inform his own men? Yeah, right.

Samyaza did not look amused as he snapped his own fingers. In a second's breath, the two hooded figures sitting closest to him were up and standing at either side of Gabriel, a long blade in both of their hands. Both blades positioned themselves around Gabriel's neck.

"Do you doubt the one you swore your legion and loyalty to? And don't try and move. These blades are made from the same material that Lucifer produces his own weaponry from." He stood. "One hundred percent full-proof for reaping souls and killing angels."

Samyaza walked forward, as Gabriel tried to stand up. He was forcibly shoved back down by the two hooded men, as the blades dug back a bit closer.

"Beautiful weapons, aren't they? We haven't had a chance to try them out since all that walks the earth are humans and demons—both of which cannot be hurt by the blade." Samyaza reached forward, cupping the angel's chin in his hand.

His hand was ashen, like how his face and the other's appeared whenever their hoods slipped up a bit too far. He looked young; a comparison to a human in his early thirties if someone needed an age period. His nails were in desperate need for a cut, grisly and dry in their appearance.

Gabriel had only ever seen Samyaza's face one time, and that was about three years prior. To him, it only seemed like a month or two, since time traveled different for angels.

But not, as Samyaza directed his chin toward him, he had a direct look under the hood.

Samyaza's hair was a faded blond, long and stringy as it was tucked into the hood so Gabriel couldn't see the exact length. He kept it out of his face mostly, parted somewhat in the middle.

His eyes glared down at Gabriel, a passive, clouded over blue that made the angel wonder if he could actually see him. It's just what Gabriel imagined a blind man's eyes to seem, but he knew better.

"Yes, fine, fine weapons. Almost as fine as the man commanding them himself." Samyaza snorted at the attempt at the compliment, dropping Gabriel's chin. He still towered over him, so every word was spoken directly eye to eye.

No one else in the circle had moved. Lilith had snickered when Gabriel was pinned down, but even she was growing a bit bored.

"You try and compliment your way out of everything, trying to trick a prideful old man." His eyes would have sparkled in his tone if not for the years of torment and unkempt that he had lived through, so they just remained cloudy and staring directly at him.

"Old man? I do believe you don't look a day over two thousand, my lord." Oh butter him up.

Samyaza arched a brow, as he waved his hand, dismissing the two men. They looked at one another over Gabriel, before releasing the hold and slinking back into the shadowed room.

Oh, so it worked, Gabriel smirked on the inside, though he kept his face a mask of contempt on the outside.

Samyaza had crossed back over, and was hovering by his chair as Gabriel spoke up again.

"So you never did tell me how they knew of the boy."

The leader looked down, before sitting down with a perfect posture and glancing back over towards the other angel.

"Oh, yes, well we got all the information and images we needed from Lucien a few days ago." Another short and simple answer. Back to where they started.

Gabriel put on a face of questioning, before realizing, and nearly yelling, as he exclaimed, "Lucien! You mean Lucien from the scout's office?!" He couldn't believe it. He just could not believe that they had breached his part of the plan.

Samyaza simply stared, giving a barely visible nod.

"You do realize Lucien is a demon right?"

"That time I checked."

"And aren't we framing the demons for stealing the child if we get caught? Wh-Why would you go and ask him for help? If push comes to shove, he'll know the truth and we'll get captured!" He hadn't realized that he was standing, and that his voice had raised a few octaves.

Samyaza looked on.

Gabriel waited one, two, three moments before the Watcher finally spoke up. "You must remember Lucien is stupid and forgetful; I'm sure he already lost track of us requesting to see the deceased's file."

Gabriel noticed that Samyaza stopped calling the target an angel now, since he was most likely not one anymore anyways.

He contemplated, and then realized the elder one was right. Lucien was a mess at keeping track of time and business; he probably forgot about the whole thing the second after they left with the information. There would be no way for him to recall if the matter ever came up.

"Well," Gabriel said lamely, struggling to get around the words that would say Samyaza was undoubtedly correct, "…."

"Oh, such a talker are you not."

Gabriel gave a huff over towards the other angel, as he quickly turned to his left. "Well, I think that is all the matters to be discussed."

"Who shall I send the bill to?"

Oh, now he was trying to be funny.

"Ha-ha. Anyway, I should head back before they get too suspicious. I'll descend back soon to see what has happened to him." He called over his shoulder, back up towards the door.

"Give my condolences."

Gabriel smirked, lifting back up the black hood as he stomped towards the door.

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Well, that's finally it!

Hope you enjoyed it.

I appreciate any review, help, whatever at all.

- Mazzie


	2. Chapter Two

Second part of Chapter One! I have decided, after much thought, to divide these into two seperate chapters because I think it works a bit better like that. Personal decision, if you will.

Yes, if you have read this story before 5/10/10, you have already read this chapter.

Good news though~! Currently working on Chapter Three, so watch out for that somewhat soon. (:

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Playlist

**Chapter Song:** See Who I Am by Within Temptation

_"Let's show them that we can  
Free our minds and find a way.  
The world is in our hands,  
This is not the end."_

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**L&L's Office of Scouting and Searching, Central, 2010**

He grunted every few steps, favoring his right foot a bit though he wasn't slowed down by it. His clothing had rips in it, his hair was a complete and total mess, and there was blood on most parts of his body.

Though most was not his, it was still not a pretty sight.

He had truly almost had his ass handed to him tonight. Thankfully, Roy is more than a little lucky when it comes to handling vagrants, and the three that attacked him were barely a problem.

He had been out on a simple assignment, scouting out for new recruits that looked like they could "lay a punch, deal with criticism, and remember every word that I say", as quoted by Lucien of course. He wanted someone to recall what he said, since he could barely keep track of what he was doing and saying himself.

He had found a hopeful, though that chance in recruitment was shot down when the three men that stepped from the alleyway scared him away with his tail between his legs. If that wasn't enough, apparently Roy was on their part of the city, their territory, so they decided to teach him a lesson.

In the end, it ended with two bleeding and broken vagrants, and one rat sprinted off when the first punch was thrown and Roy showed that he could hold his own.

But it was against Lucien's policy to do anything about the bodies, so he just left them there and started limping back to the main office.

You'd think he would care more about not trying to kill anyone, but Lucien had the mindset that "if anything gets in the way, then kill 'em". Straight from the man's mouth himself.

He was a true devil of a man, who worked him long hours over the course of the day, called him at random hours for bizarre assignments, and clearly tortured him and his paycheck day after day. Sometimes Roy believed he liked throwing causing him misery, that that was his goal and that he probably wouldn't be doing shit if he wasn't so favored by the man.

To back up a bit, Roy can be described as bound to this man. Well, more likely his profession, this office. L&L's Office for Scouting and Searching mainly deals with recruiting people to work for the jobs and assignments that Lucien gets from his superiors, where people generally must be invisible. One slip up and its game over.

The jobs include things like getting information, spying around, digging through graves (sometimes literally), and searching for answers. Sometimes the problems are nonsense, though Roy has come across a few good ones in time.

The reason he was bound to the office was simple really. So simple that he wouldn't tell you, but let you figure it out for yourself. The other reason would be because he couldn't.

Roy had a breech in his memory around the time he began working for Lucien, though it was almost a decade or so ago. He recalls being introduced to the man, getting his first assignment, being forced through a hell called training, and meeting all the people who worked alongside Lucien in the office.

Before that, he remembers semi-normal childhood, alright life growing up as an only child in a middle class home, but nothing that points him towards why he went into this line of work. His last memory was an interview with a man, the same silhouette that haunts his dreams every now and again.

The man is tall, very broad, though he stands in a way that he almost isn't even a figure. He's almost drawn out, stretched out. Golden light and color shines all around him, as he sits there telling Roy nonsense about life and death.

It's always been confusing, for after that memory lapses him, Roy finds himself in the Scout's Office, no regard or anything about what had happened before.

It was like the span between the meeting with that man and showing up at the Scout's Office, being fit with a job was in the same moment.

But when he was first brought to the Office, he wasn't put under Lucien's care, but by another brown-noser who treated him like scum and tried to make him remember meeting that mysterious man. Whenever he mentioned the man, his associate got really strung up, literally forcing him by beating the answer from him.

Lucien saved him from the man, getting him subsequently transferred. It's been at least a decade now if he wasn't mistake.

And though he's grateful, it gets old when Lucien waves that over his head. Even just for a joke, it still bugs him when he uses that ploy to get what he wants. What a devilish man.

Roy looked up from where he had been staring at the ground, sighing in relief when he realized he had reached his destination.

The Scout's Office, as most shortened it to call, was an old building in the deceasing part of town, where more bars and whorehouses were opened than restaurants and the 'high class' people tried to avoid. It was two stories, though the second story was used mainly for other things.

He couldn't elaborate that much on it, for that's what Lucien explained it as every time he asked. He would say it was for offices of the higher ups, and where they kept a lot of important documentation that he shouldn't worry about.

He did know that a few people that served under Lucien had work up there, but that was about all.

Roy had only been up there once, for a brief second, during his tour of the Scout's Office way back when he started.

The main floor held a variety of offices and rooms for people who decided to make it their cozy home in the middle of downtown Central. As far as he knew, Lucien stayed there, making his home in the farthest room in the back. His office was one of the first people saw, though, as it was straight down the hall from the lobby, directly forward.

And that's where Roy's feet had taken him. After waving by a few people of all shapes and sizes, he hadn't run into any of his working buddies yet. With a sigh, figuring most were gone for the night or on an assignment, he knocked once on the peeling mahogany door.

"Yeah?"

Roy took that as his cue, shrugging the door opened and crashing inside.

Lucien sat straight ahead at his desk, which was askew with books, papers, leaking pens and inks all over the once top of the class desk. There was probably something living in the stacks he had made to at least try and be tidy, though it didn't help much with how everything else around him was a mess.

His head was tilted downward, glasses that he didn't need skewed on his face. They were usually for play, like when certain clients came in and Lucien wanted to "not appear completely perfect for them". Such modesty.

Lucien looked up from whatever was on his desk, effectively peeling off the glasses as he realized who it was.

He was handsome; the type agents would kill for any day for a model to look like. His presence was uncanny and he held a superior aura to anyone who was in the same room as he was.

He grabbed attention with his looks as well. His hair was dark brown, messy and unkempt just like the person who 'styled' it every morning. Lucien said he kept it long for personal reasons, since it was easier to tie back if he ever needed it to be. Today, however, his hair was down, swishing dangerously close to covering his eyes.

They were the color of wine, a deep red wine that seemed to glow whenever he got pissed enough. Currently, his eyes were half-closed, like he was bored with whatever he had just been reading.

"Oh, finally you're back. I thought those bums might have gotten the best of you and I'd have to go find someone else to take over your shift." Lucien said, pointing his glasses at him as he spoke, before setting them down on the desk. "I mean seriously, between you and that girl I'm always behind schedule."

Roy frowned, shutting the door as he approached his employer. "How sweet of you to think of me as you sit back here in the safety of your office on your ass." He bit back, hearing something enter his words like he was angry.

If Lucien heard it, he didn't give a sign and just continued to stare at Roy.

The silence lasted a moment, before the other man sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"So, did you find anyone worthy of working at LOSS?" It was a nickname that a lot of the workers usually referred to the company as. If you just took the initials of the business' title…

"No, no one looked right at all." Roy snorted. "The only ones who could lay a punch are lying in a gutter a few blocks down." He sighed.

Lucien looked troubled for a moment, picking up a pen to sketch down something on one of the many papers in front of him. "It seems like people are either getting worse at defending themselves or better at hiding themselves." He looked back up. "This company used to have people clawing their ways inside the doors to try and get an interview, and now the only people who will even step foot in here are the ones who do nothing but demand, whine, and turn in zero results." His voice rose a bit, exasperation in his tone.

Roy raised a brow. "Well, perhaps it's because of your poor people skills." Lucien flashed him a look, with which the he couldn't help but grin. Sure, his boss had the looks, but between him forgetting nearly everything without jotting it down and his foul mood whenever he got new employees, always claiming he was 'testing' them, it didn't surprise the scouter that they had no new people in quite some time.

"I'm sure you've got loads of applications under all that shit on your desk. Have you thought about cleaning it off lately? I think something might be dead in there." That or the office smelled of something else rancid.

Lucien looked thoughtful for a moment, before shaking his head. "Nope! You're wrong on both accounts, Roy-boy."

Roy visibly shuttered at the name, but saw Lucien instantly turn that frown that had been etching its way on to his face into a happy look.

"I don't have poor people skills; people are just assholes nowadays. And I can clearly see from here that the last application was from that disgruntled sin of a man who I would kill myself before I'd let him work for my company, get it?"

"Get it" was Lucien's term of endearment for shut up and don't argue. He'd heard it many times before, but it had never truly stuck in his head.

"That's exactly why people don't work for you, because you're the asshole and they are just trying to find work. Maybe if you lighten up a bit you'll have more people wanting to join."

There was a pause, as Lucien looked up from his papers and gave Roy a dry look that lasted several moments.

He then burst out laughing.

"Oh, man, should I tuck them in to bed as well and read them a bed time story? Roy-boy, you're getting a bit soft around the edges aren't you?" Lucien clutched his sides, his hair shading his face as he slammed his head on the desk to try and contain himself.

Roy grumbled, turning away from the scene. "You're a riot."

"And you're both complete idiots, aren't you?"

Roy turned his head to the left, where a woman appeared at the far door behind Lucien's desk. She stepped firmly and proudly with each step, her stilettos clicking on the marble flooring.

She was decked head to toe in tight leather clothing; the top was the only exception.

Her top consisted of a corset, strung tightly in the back as it pushed up her breasts which didn't need anything to accentuate them already. The corset flooded down, as it eventually faded into the tight leather pants that gripped her hips smoothly, before it ended, tucked into knee high stiletto boots. The heel was thin, and Roy always wondered how she kept her balance and managed to not break the paper-thin heel with every step.

Over her corset, the woman had a long sleeved leather jacket, only held together by the clasp right below her chest. It morphed into gloves just above her wrists, and didn't end until just below her nails, completely covering both hands.

Her nails were manicured, pointed black tips, which hung devilishly at her sides.

While Lucien had worn more simple clothing for the day: tight black slacks and a long sleeved black shirt and the same gloves that stopped right below his sharpened nails, this woman looked down right ready for anything from a party to a gathering on a street corner somewhere.

She stepped closer, more towards the two men, stopped just at Lucien's side with her arms crossed over her chest.

Her hair was roughly the same color as Lucien's, though it had an almost red tint in it that matched her red wine eyes perfectly. It reached just past her shoulders, swung in light, natural waves.

Lucien didn't even look back, just waved a hand over in her general direction. "And you're useless, Genevieve. I swear I told you and your mangy man to be back here before Roy got back. Can't handle a simple assignment, can you?"

Genevieve stared back at the man who was pointedly ignoring her, unfolding her arms and gaping over at him. "A simple assignment? You bastard, you sent us on delivery! Not just any delivery, but to bring Father Cornello some mutated water for his sick, sadistic self! If Gerard and I hadn't already been to hell and back, you would have condemned us!"

Lucien snorted, doodling on the paper. Roy stared at the outburst. It wasn't uncommon.

Roy knew some things about Genevieve, like how she had lived in a place she considered hell before she came to work for Lucien. She dragged her lover, Gerard, with her, though he showed up only a quarter of the time that the female actually showed her face around here. But he grimaced at the thought of her assignment.

The couple was sent for the more hefty assignments, such as the deliveries, which Roy sometimes envied and sometimes was glad he was never chosen for them. Such as this one. Father Cornello was some pervert a town over who always bought from LOSS because he wasn't really licensed as a father so he had to get his holy water somehow.

Roy never knew exactly where the office got it themselves, mainly because he never worked for the delivery unit as stated prior. He was a scouter; good at paying close attention and sneaking around, as Lucien would describe his work ethic.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Stop bitching, you ungrateful lecher. You should be lucky I don't send you back to hell so the devil can deal with you himse—"

Lucien caught himself, flashing a quick look over to Genevieve who was staring at him with a warning glare perched on her face. Roy looked at each one in turn, confused. "Wha—"'

"Oh, nothing, nothing, Roy-boy. Just a simple threat to calm the storm, don't you say?" Genevieve continued to glare at him, which Roy guessed it was like telling an adopted child they were going back to the orphanage. It was something people just didn't say.

But it wasn't the first time Lucien said strange things like that. Hell was a natural euphemism for his boss, like he'd been there before or something. Roy never thought his boss as being actually Satanist, but sometimes it was hard to doubt that he had some beliefs in the Underworld, with all the threatening he said to Genevieve and Gerard.

"Right…" Roy drew out, looking pointedly at them both. "Anyway, am I done for the night?"

"Yes, yes, I thi—"

"Hey, don't you try and change the subject, old man! I want you to fucking get a grip on reality and stop sending us on these bogus, good for nothing deliveries that threaten our lives! Unlike you, this is our last chance at life and I'd rather not die by a sadistic church-goer who was trying to fondle Gerard the entire time!"

"Oh, I didn't realize Gerard swung that wa—"

"That's it!" Genevieve stalked over to the man, dragging him up by his collar as she shook him back and worth, muttering something or the other at him. It lasted a few mere moments, before the female calmed down, slammed the man face first into the desk, and stomped back to her position off to the side.

"Roooooy, you didn't even try and help me!" Lucien wailed, muffled from his face being turned towards the wood. Roy smirked in turn.

"You had it coming for you, boss." Lucien grumbled at the response, as he practically felt the triumphant grin radiating from Genevieve.

"Anyways, I guess you're done for the night, Roy." He paused. "I swear I had something to tell you, to keep an eye out for someone but I-I can't…" He trailed, lifting up the file folders, papers, and books as he searched for something he misplaced.

Not only can't he remember shit, he also couldn't seem to find any of the papers he wrote things on since he knew he would forget whatever he was supposed to remember!

He made an irritable sound, before looking back up at Roy. "Eh, well, I'll tell it to you when I remember! Toddle-lu!" He gave an animated wave, ushering the man out as Roy gave him a disgruntled look, muttering to himself as to why he wasted his breath there.

Lucien kept waving until Roy left. "Whew! That was a close one!" He exclaimed, leaning back in the chair, as Genevieve continued to stare pointedly at where the door just slammed shut. He frowned at her downturn face.

"How does he not catch on, with every fucking mess-up that you have every day. How does Roy not remember a damned thing?! You basically call me a demon, and all he does it stare at us and blink!" Her voice raised a few octaves at the end, though her gaze did not falter. Lucien gave up looking at her, before turning his gaze towards the door as well. All traces of his happy demeanor were gone.

"You know as well as I do that his binding magic is strong. He can't recall it because all we mention are normal speech to him; the devil and hell. We never speak to him as if he once spoke with the man himself or lived far below the earth's surface." Lucien sighed, as he continued to stare forward. "Besides, I'm sure Lucifer would count on those subtle hints breaching the contract. Probably why it was made extra powerful just for him."

"No, it was made greater because that's how Roy was. Greater and more powerful than Lucifer and that's why the devil had to eliminate him by sentencing him to a human life. I only wish he had at least let Roy keep his memory." Genevieve sighed, leaning to sit on the corner of Lucien's desk.

"You know as well as I that that would never worked. Roy was too awestruck with power; he would have destroyed LOSS and all of us, no matter how close he had been with you and Gerard." Lucien shifted behind the female demon.

The room was silent for a few moments, before Genevieve nodded her head in agreement. Another moment, before the male spoke, "Now would you mind getting yourself off my desk and your ass out of my face so I can finish my work? And where's Gerard? I clearly remember seeing his lazy self here when I issued your assignment!" A pause. "Oh, and tell me how the fuck it went. I need some uplifting after these teary-ass memories."

Genevieve rolled her eyes, stepping off the desk as she turned to him and started on explaining the latest mission, with as little slapping and aggressive words being used as she could handle.

Roy grumbled to himself as he let himself out of the office, saying goodbye to the people he passed before starting the trek to his apartment. He didn't live far, which was good, since he felt like he would drop at any moment.

The spat between Genevieve and Lucien hadn't helped his mood, though it never surprised him. Lucien always brought up mentions of sending Genevieve back where she came from, the place from before, and instead of scaring her shitless with the threat, she just got pissed off.

But, for some reason, whenever they mentioned hell and the devil, Roy got the feeling as if he knew exactly what they were talking about. Perhaps that was the reason he always got uncomfortable, and ushered himself out.

He couldn't say exactly why it made him feel that way, but it wasn't the best feeling to have the urge to join in the conversation but never know what exactly to say. He felt as if their inside jokes were his; they had known one another for many years before Roy had even joined LOSS.

Roy hadn't realized he had missed his turn at the last block, leading him down towards an alley that would lead him in a complete circle around the office building instead of back home.

"Way to fucking go." He muttered under his breath, turning to head back the other way. Yeah, he wouldn't look retarded at all. Turning slowly around, he was about to head back out when movement caught his eyes and a distinct cry was heard around the corner from him.

He immediately flinched, knowing that he could either investigate or run; leaving someone else to find whatever was going on in the alley. If he left, he could just say that he had been imagining things and the night air was messing with his head. But he couldn't leave someone there if a person was in danger…

He cursed himself, turning sharply around as he plunged around the corner and into two men. They both were around the same height as him, with long black cloaks on and hoods covering their faces. He saw some light hair peeking out from one of the figure's hoods, but nothing more.

"Hey, what's going on ov—Ahh!"

He screamed in surprise as the one closest to him, the one with the light brown hair, suddenly advanced on him, grabbing Roy in the process. He yelped as the man threw in forward, straight to the sidewalk behind them in one fluid move.

Roy got around to defend himself, moving to his feet in one jump. The hooded man got ready, but before Roy could ask anything else, the other one placed a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "Lahash, let's not waste time."

A movement resulted to Roy's left, inside the alley mouth. This Lahash person was silent, as Roy could feel his aura of wanting to attack Roy with all he had, but the other man was persistent. "No." The other man answered, as if reading Lahash's mind. "We did what we were supposed to do. Let's get back."

They turned tail then, flitting back in the dark alleyway, where they promptly disappeared.

"What freaks…" Roy trailed, staring at them, before turning to go, but not before whatever was in the alley moved once again.

He cocked his head, staring defiantly inside of the alley. "Hello?" He creped in slowly, feeling along the wall until he stepped on something squishy and wet. He could barely see anything since the light didn't go this far into the alley, but he didn't have to illuminate in front of him to realize what was there.

He had stepped on a piece of torn cloth, completely covered in blood. It was deep red, dark like a murder scene as it extended past the pieces of fabric on the ground, before leading to a figure. Roy could do little else as he felt his eyes widening.

There sat a person in the middle of this blood pile, a once white garment now handing loosely off their body as they sat stiffly on his side. Their eyes were cast downward, not betraying any hint of emotion as the dull irises stared at nothing.

The hair hung off the person limply; as if it had lost all its shine and could do nothing more than slowly start to fall apart. Roy first believed it to be a girl, but as a little light pierced the alley from a passing car, he realized it was a young man.

His face made him look in his prime teen years, maybe a little older, but his lithe body made him appear a bit feminine and smaller.

His front was mostly clean, but his back…

"Hey, are you alright?" Yeah, because someone covered head to toe in blood is completely normal.

The boy did nothing but stare forward.

He waited a moment, before sighing, looking at the mouth of the alley before he moved forward and crouched down by the boy. He then realized something. Didn't those two men just come from this alley…?

The realization shocked him for a second, thinking that perhaps the boy had been attacked by the men.

"Oh my fucking god, we need to get you to a hospital!" Roy exclaimed, placing his hands on the shoulder on the young boy in front of him. Bad move.

The young man screeched in pain, darting forward and knocking Roy off balance. Not only that, but he had moved closer to the light, and in turn, gave a vivid picture of how he was injured.

The blood seemed to be coming from two long slashes on his back, parallel to one another and about seven inches in length. He could only see half of the mark, but he could see how far it went thanks to the darker stain of blood.

"Hos…pital?"

"Yes, are you even aware of what's going on?" Roy was startled at the way the young man took the words, as he looked around like he was doing it for the first time since he had been sitting there.

"Now, I'm not going to hurt you, but those are some nasty cuts on your back. And I think we shoul—"

"No." The young man suddenly bit out the word.

"Wha?"

"No hospital."

Screw the stubbornness of Genevieve and Lucien; he was taking it to a whole new level. He never knew anyone so close to death to refuse treatment. Wait… if he was bleeding everywhere, how was the young man still conscious? He may not be a paramedic, but Roy knew a few things thanks to health in high school.

Roy noticed the boy had looked away after his short statement, and was referring to look at him. He also realized he had been so busy worrying for the kid that he hadn't taken him in till just now.

He realized the lifeless hair that hung like string on his head was once probably a vibrant gold; now it just sat there, a dull blonde that still made him look like Adonis incarnate.

He sighed, seeing that his persistence wasn't getting him anywhere.

"Fine, if you won't let me take you to the hospital, will you at least let me take you to my house? I'd hate to say it, but you don't look like an angel covered in all the blood, kid."

Roy didn't even have the chance to blink as the young man whipped around, staring at him placidly with eyes that matched his lifeless hair. A spark of something was hidden beneath, as he crooked his head and glanced at Roy.

Maybe he should have stayed with Genevieve and Lucien a little longer, so he wouldn't have to deal with this kid himself. Or maybe he shouldn't have taken the wrong fucking turn that ended him up in this situation. Devilish thinking, he knew, but this wasn't the way he wanted to spend these few precious hours before his boss was calling him out on assignment again…

"An… angel?" The kid spoke tantalizingly slow, lowering his head and keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

"Yeah, kid, but I promise we'll have you looking like one once we get you patched up." Was this tactic at charm working?

Roy looked at the young man who was slowly raising his eyes up once again. A stifled nod came from him, which was so slight that Roy would have missed it if he hadn't been looking properly.

He smiled to himself, before standing up to try and figure out a way to hold the kid. So what if his assignment today had been a bust and he ended up in between a spat between his friend and his boss? If only Lucien could see him now, acting finding someone like the scout's office usually sent him out to do. If only this was an assignment where he could score points.

But he had to make do with the promise he just said he would accomplish, and Roy wasn't one who usually broke his promises.

* * *

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- Mazzie


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